


Tales From The Back Pages

by fangirl_squee



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cross-Generational Friendship, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 04:18:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bahorel, Grantaire, and Gavroche - a friendship built on a solid foundation of bar fights and waffles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tales From The Back Pages

**Author's Note:**

  * For [woppetry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/woppetry/gifts).



> For Woppetry, who requested Bahorel&Grantaire&Gavroche "The characters causing havoc/mischief/trouble or being massive dorks. Just something with them hanging out and being friends uwu" for Les Mis Fanwork Exchange - I hope you like it! (and Merry Christmas!)
> 
>  
> 
> Also thanks, as always, to my wonderful beta besanii, who beta'd this without complaint at 10:30pm the night before it was due, I would be lost without you.
> 
>  
> 
> Title from 'Go Places' by The New Pornographers.

This is how Grantaire meets Bahorel:

 

He’s sitting at a bar (as usual), drinking (as usual), ignoring the scuffle going on in the corner (as … mostly usual, this isn’t the most reputable of places), when someone bumps into his back. It jolts Grantaire’s arm, making him spill the contents of his near-full glass all over himself. Grantaire turns, annoyed, and shoves the guy away. The guy’s friend punches him in the face, and from that point on Grantaire is involved in the scuffle in the corner.

 

Somewhere in between ‘scuffle’ and ‘serious fight’ (but before ‘shit they’re calling the police’), Grantaire gets knocked into someone solid and _ridiculously_ tall, making them both stumble into the wall. Grantaire throws a few punches, but the guy who knocked him off balance keeps coming. The tall guy he’d collided with turns, delivering an impressive roundhouse kick to put the other guy down, before turning to Grantaire.

 

He’s got an impressive black eye forming, but he grins down at Grantaire (and it is _down_ , Grantaire might be a few inches shorter than average but this guy is _enormous_ ).

 

“I guess we’re on the same side, then?” says the tall guy.

 

Grantaire grins back. “I guess so.”

 

It’s the easiest friendship he’s ever made in his life.

 

They go out, they get into trouble, but it’s (mostly) the fun kind. Bahorel matches him drink-for-drink sometimes, and pulls him into arguments with strangers. He laughs.

 

 

This is how Grantaire meets Gavroche:

 

Grantaire’s taking Bahorel to a diner he’d found a few weeks ago. The décor is an eye-searing shade of orange, but they make _amazing_ waffles and he knows Bahorel will appreciate both those things.

 

He’s just getting to the part about the curtains (they have pictures of _neon balloons_ with _faces_ , it’s horrific and Grantaire just knows Bahorel is going to spam his Facebook with photos of them later or something), when someone small runs into his legs. Grantaire stumbles backwards.

 

“Sorry,” the kid says, steadying Grantaire.

 

“It’s okay,” says Grantaire, “just watch where you’re going.”

 

The kids nods, but before he can more away Bahorel leans over, putting a hand on the kids shoulder.

 

Grantaire raises his eyebrows, but Bahorel silences him with a look. It’s not dissimilar to his ‘let me talk to this police officer before he arrests you for being annoying’ look.

 

“Thanks for helping my friend up,” says Bahorel, “now are you going to give us our wallets back?”

 

“What?” says the kid, blinking up at Bahorel with wide eyes.

 

“What?” says Grantaire, patting down his pockets. His wallet is, of course, not there.

 

Bahorel flicks a glance to Grantaire, and huffs a laugh. “Yeah, it was a pretty smooth lift. We’ve got ourselves a professional here.”

 

The kid squirms, testing Bahorel’s grip.

 

“Hey I know you,” says Bahorel, keeping one hand on the kid’s shoulder, “you’re Eponine’s little brother, Gavroche right?”

 

Gavroche’s eyes narrow. “Yeah.”

 

“Well, I’m Bahorel and this is Grantaire, and I’m a friend of your sister,” says Bahorel.

 

Gavroche stills, regarding them both carefully. “Yeah, I’ve heard of you.”

 

“Good,” says Grantaire, “now that we’ve established we’re all friends here, does that mean you’re going to give us our wallets back?”

 

“Are you a cop?”

 

Bahorel lets out a booming laugh.

 

Grantaire puts a hand on his chest. “Slander!”

 

“That’s not a ‘no’,” says Gavroche.

 

“No,” says Grantaire grinning. “I’m not a cop. I choose to focus my passion for justice into the arts.”

 

Bahorel laughs.

 

Gavroche continues to look sceptical, but he does hand back their wallets. “Nothing much in them anyway.”

 

“That’s why you should pick the pockets of students,” says Grantaire, “always go for the pockets of fancy suits not jeans with holes in them, that’s my advice.”

 

“Didn’t you just say something about justice?” says Bahorel.

 

Grantaire waves a hand. “It’s the Robin Hood style of justice.”

 

Gavroche’s face breaks into a grin. “Sounds like good advice to me.”

 

They end up taking Gavroche to the diner with them. He shares Grantaire’s opinion on the waffles, but agrees with Bahorel about the curtains. He and Bahorel conspire against Grantaire while he’s in the bathroom and somehow manage to use their small window of Grantaire-less time to change all of the contact photos in his phone to photos of the curtains.

 

There’s also a new number in there that turns out to be for the payphone on the corner of Gavroche’s block. The contact photo is actually of Gavroche, grinning and giving a thumbs up to the camera with a backdrop of neon balloons.

 

When Grantaire gets around to changing all the photos back he leaves that one, because every time he sees it, it makes him laugh.

 

 

When the weather’s nice, Grantaire sets up an easel in the park. It’s mostly tourists who buy them, but the money is decent enough and Grantaire figures if he’s supposed to be practicing his sketch work he may as well be getting paid for it.

 

Bahorel’s not really one for sitting around, but he checks in periodically if Grantaire’s going to be there all day – in passing while he’s on a jog, calling him because he can’t remember of the place they went for lunch with “the good sandwiches, you know, the _really_ good ones, with that bread”, and sometimes stopping by at the end of the day to go for a drink.

 

Sometimes Gavroche stops by. He doesn’t usually do anything morally dubious at the park (or, not that Grantaire has noticed anyway), and Grantaire usually draws him something in between customers. Gavroche has much more interesting ideas than most tourists do.

 

“What next?” says Grantaire, pencil hovering above the paper.

 

“A robot army, fighting dinosaurs,” says Gavroche withouy hesitation.

 

Grantaire grins. _Much_ more interesting than landscapes sketches. “Okay, but I’m going to need you to do some dinosaur poses for me to get this right.”

 

Gavroche does three different versions of ‘scary clawed dinosaur’ before they change it up to robots.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Grantaire looks up to see Bahorel holding two ice coffees.

 

He waves a hand. “Art.”

 

“Art,” repeats Bahorel.

 

“I’m a model,” says Gavroche, “is one of those for me?”

 

“We can share,” says Bahorel, setting down the drinks next to Grantaire. “Models need to stay hydrated. What are you modelling for?”

 

“Robots versus dinosaurs,” says Grantaire, “and epic battle going on right here in this fair park. You know, what I really need are some models in action, to really get the _feel_ of motion of battle.”

 

“Oh yeah?” says Gavroche.

 

“Definitely,” says Grantaire, “now are you a dinosaur or a robot?”

 

Gavroche pauses for a moment, considering. “A dinosaur.” Launching himself at Bahorel, he shouts “prepare for annihilation, robot!”

 

Grantaire doesn’t remember the last time he laughed so hard.


End file.
